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Because SOMEHOW people need to be reminded of things from literally ten years ago:
"Free the nipple" never meant "free to not wear a bra" or "free to breastfeed." Those were adjacent conversations that of course "free the nipple" supporters would boost, but that was NEVER the core of free the nipple.
The core of free the nipple was always that the breasts of people perceived as women ("female-presenting nipples" to use some Tumblr speak) are in no way different than the breasts of people perceived as men. And that since the chests of people perceived as men are not sexualized and are allowed to be exposed, so too should the breasts of people perceived as women. If men can be topless, so can women. If it's inappropriate for women to show their chests, neither should men. It isn't sexual assault for a woman to walk around barechested, because it isn't sexual assault for a man to do so either, and breasts are NOT sexual organs.
Claiming breasts are inherently sexual organs is factually and morally wrong, it is sexist and controlling, it is a tool of oppression, and it defines normal body parts (and bodily functions) as sex which leads to inherent sexualization of people with those parts. It leads to 12 year olds with large breasts being accused of seducing 40 year old men or trying to distract and corrupt their classmates.
"Free the nipple" doesn't mean "free the nipple in a god-fearing way." It means FREE THE NIPPLE, full stop, end of sentence. It means to free the nipple of the faulty social constructs that cast it as a sexualized, malicious force of seduction instead of a normal body part that should be free of expectations of shame or "modesty."
Breasts and nipples aren't shameful, sexual, immoral, porn-adjacent, kinks, a distraction, or things to be feared. They are a part of your body just like your elbows and ankles, and being afraid of them, thinking they will corrupt some innocent person or that being exposed to them is trauma akin to sexual assault, is the entire fucking problem.
Free the nipple, not just for breastfeeding, not just from bras, but from the fucked up social constructs that cast them as malicious instead of innocent. Stop trying to sanitize "free the nipple" for puritanical, conservative audiences who already hate you and the rest of us. You aren't helping anyone.
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From Chapter Two of Otherside of the Game. Chapter One is live on ao3 now. Thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses 💕
Marjan’s not laughing anymore either. She’s still staring at the photo, pinching and zooming, pinching and zooming. Like she thinks she’s gonna find something hiding in the powdered sugar dust.
“Women disappear all the time because someone close to them hurts them,” she says. “Boyfriend. Husband. Family. But a woman leaves work, gets in her car, and just… evaporates? Into thin air?”
What’s left of TK’s grin fades, dissolving like clumps of powdered sugar in water.
“That’s the weird part,” TK says quietly. “Carlos said they never found her car near the bakery either.”
“So she went somewhere… But where did she go?” Marjan’s brow furrows as she continues scrolling. “Damn, she studied pâtisserie and boulangerie at Le Cordon Bleu in London.”
TK’s not sure what boulangerie is, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to ask.
Meanwhile Marjan’s still scrolling. And scrolling.
The further down she gets the more her expression shifts.
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Good morning! Happy Wednesday! This is from chapter 17 of Mirror in the Sky, What is Love? - (and is from a moment in the show so heartbreaking it makes me woozy...)
A movement at the door distracts Owen – a slow and lumbering shape out of the corner of his eye.
He turns around.
The funny thing is, Owen isn’t at all astonished to see the man at first. It’s like his brain was expecting to see this particular person, even more than he was expecting to see Gwyn and Enzo.
“Chrysler Guy,” Owen says. Of course. Of course. TK has been seeing Chrysler Guy. Carlos. It’s been him all along. Someone in the crew must know about their thing, and they’ve called to let him know about TK. “Would you like some time with him?”
Carlos hovers in the doorway. His eyes are large with fear and shimmering with tears.
“I don’t want to impose,” he says.
Owen can see that Carlos is shivering, but his conscientiousness fills the stuffy room like a warm breeze.
“No. I think he’d appreciate it.” Owen gets up, pats TK on the shoulder. The starchy hospital gown scrunches under his palm. “I know I would.”
As Owen approaches the door, Carlos steps into the room but seems to shrink as he does. He stares at Owen with unshed tears in his eyes, like a boy in trouble. He’s so nervous and tentative, Owen can’t help but offer the comfort of a shoulder pat for him too. He gives him a light, pally slap to the back of his neck, a familiarity as if they’ve known each other for years. Carlos gives him a nod of appreciation, unable to say anything, and carries on to TK’s bedside. Sitting down next to him on the mattress, Carlos takes in all the things that Owen could not. He wonders who bought the flowers, who bought the cuddly hedgehog. TK so loved. Carlos knew that already. But it’s different when you see the love laid out on a hospital nightstand.
Good morning everybody! Chapter 16 of Mirror in the Sky, What is Love? will be up later! This is a moment from 2014, in which TK finds himself the subject of an intervention. CW: Addiction.
2014
“Why’d you put Enzo’s piano on Craigslist?” Owen snaps, waving a hand towards the walnut baby grand in the corner.
TK lurches at the accusation. Of which he is guilty. “What?” he enquires.
“We know that you did,” Enzo follows. “I’ve reported the listing.”
TK shakes his head, gobsmacked. He only added it yesterday evening. “You never – you never play and–”
“So you thought you’d sell it for a crack slush fund?” Owen barks. “Like you sold your mom’s bracelet and my Smith & Wesson?”
“What?” Gwyn shrieks, sitting up and looking between TK and Owen. “Tyler Kennedy, you sold a firearm?”
“No!” TK whimpers, “I didn’t. I took it for protection.”
“Then where is it?” Own asks. “Because it’s not in its case. And you were going to shoot who, exactly, with a sixty-year-old pistol? Some dealer?”
“I left it somewhere. I don’t know,” TK gabbles, “But I didn’t sell it, I swear!”
“TK, that gun is registered to me. You realize if anyone finds it and turns it into the police – if anyone gets hurt with it – I’m fucked?”
“Owen!” Gwyn snaps.
“Excuse me,” Owen grunts, giving Grace in particular an apologetic look. “I just think there was a time when even you knew how serious that would be. But now the drugs are turning your brain to mush. Every decision you make centers around your next hit, yes?” Owen walks across the rug, stopping just inches away from his cowering son.
the most compelling thought for me about shane and troy is shane actually trying to brute force himself to get past everything, like he always does. trying to tell himself that it's in the past and troy's a different person but also he can't stop seeing red. he's still angry and it's not going away and every time he tries to pretend it's not there it gets stronger. he wants to be over it because that's what he's done his whole career, take whatever shit he's given and learn how to be okay with it. it's not fair but it is what it is.
but he stops being able to do that with this. he's so angry it feels overwhelming, and it's not going away. he can't get over it. and eventually he comes to the realization that he likes being angry because it finally feels real. it's not him pretending for other peoples' comfort anymore. he's so tired of doing that. it's been over a decade of taking shit and saying nothing and promising he isn't angry, but he is. he is angry. he's been angry for a long time now and finally getting to give into that is like a breath of fresh air.
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somehow it comes up that troy had a crush on shane and was going to ask for his number. and after troy gets ribbed by his teammates and ilya makes a big scene, shane is like, “well i never would’ve gone out with you lol.”
and troy smiles, “right, because you were with roz the whole time.”
“i mean, yes, but also because you and dallas kent spent years calling me and jj ‘rush hour’ and asking hayden if his wife was his beard to cover up his big gay relationship with me.”
the rest of the centaurs blink. harris puts his head in his hands and groans.
